To Be Human, Part VII
by Princepen
Summary: Continuing story. Picard's journey through the wormhole into the past to find Riker, Vash and maybe Jenice, his lost love. Time permitting, I will add another chapter soon. Thanks for reading
1. Chapter 1

The usual disclaimers apply. I don't own Star Trek, but my ideas are mine.**  
**

**Part VII, Chapter 1**

Counselor Deanna Troi was worried. Most of the people she cared about most were not on board the Enterprise, and in truth, they might never return. Until a few minutes ago, she had taken comfort in at least being able to talk to Beverly, but now something was wrong. She couldn't sense Beverly on the Enterprise anymore. Just thirty minutes ago, she'd left Beverly in her Sickbay office. They had reached an impasse and instead of continuing to try and reason through it, Troi had given up, at least temporarily, and left to allow Crusher some time to calm down.

"_What is it you are most angry about, Beverly?" Deanna had asked,sitting down across from her friend, uninvited. _

_Beverly remained silent, glaring at her computer screen, and tapped her index finger on the desk. "What makes you think that I'm angry, Deanna?" She said, evading answer with another question._

_Deanna sighed, standing up from her seat. "Well...I can tell you are very agitated, no matter how you attempt to hide it." She walked around the desk and stood closer to the doctor. "And I first noticed this when you returned from the Daystrom Institute."_

_Beverly resisted saying something hurtful about why Deanna needed her empathic skills to_ _recognize she was in a bad mood. She looked up at Deanna. "I appreciate your concern, Counselor, but I am not interested in talking with you about this. Besides, we're all under stress right now,_ _with Will and Data missing. Poor Worf nearly lost his life. Even Vash...of course I don't want to see her harmed..."_

"_No one ever said you did, Beverly," Troi reassured her. "I know you are worried about Data and Will-I am struggling with their absence myself-but this isn't really about Will or Data. It's about Captain Picard isn't it?"_

"_Obviously you've jumped to your own conclusions, Deanna, so why do you even need to ask me what I actually think?"_

"_Perhaps I wouldn't need to guess, if you would just talk to me, Beverly."_

_Beverly fell silent. Troi could tell she was becoming more angry by the moment. The doctor stood up suddenly, and her tricorder clattered to the floor. Stooping to pick it up, she stared stubbornly at Deanna. "All I was doing was trying to look out for his safety and instead of being honest with me, he lied. He lied to me, didn't rely on my counsel, and now he's jumping into some goddamn time warp."_

"_Beverly, I am sure he-"_

"_Deanna! Look, I am sure we both have work to do," Crusher interrupted sharply._

_Troi held her palms upward in silent exasperation and then turned and left._

Rarely had she seen Beverly Crusher as angry as she had been minutes ago. In fact, she had been near tears. Captain Picard, it was now known to all, had made the sudden and unilateral decision to travel back in time to Exo III of the past in order to stop Admiral Haftel from carrying out his disturbing plans. There, in the past, he would presumably encounter not only Haftel, but would also find Will and Vash. The Captain's decision was at the same time usual and unusual for the Captain. While he was known to be courageous, Captain Picard was not one to make decisions without first weighing the risks. Troi tried to reassure herself that the Captain must have believed he had no better option, of bringing his crew back safe and stopping Haftel, and perhaps he was correct. Nevertheless, had Will Riker been aboard he would have done everything in his power to convince the Captain to not embark on such a dangerous and ill-planned journey, but alas, Riker was not on board. Troi halted in the corridor, half way to her quarters. Why couldn't she sense Beverly Crusher? She turned and headed back to sickbay with only this thought in her mind.

* * *

"There!" Haftel lifted out of his seat and pointed out the view port. A yellowish slip of light seemed to emanate from behind a cloud. "But sir, it was on the planet surface last time-" the pilot protested.

"That's it dammit, quickly before it disappears!"

The pilot, hastily set coordinates for the light source and the shuttle banked and sped ahead. Haftel squeezed the object he had been holding in his hand the entire journey and it too began to glow yellow and emitted a hum.

"What the hell?" Vash said under her breath, as the yellow string of light expanded to become a rim and then changed again into what appeared to be some kind of portal. She glanced at Haftel's expression as he stared at the strange portal, and bathed in the eerie yellow light he looked sort of maniacal. For the first time she wondered why the hell she had decided to come. She considered Riker hidden in the back of the shuttle and she wondered if the two of them stood a chance, should they need to fight for their lives. Yes, Haftel only had several cronies with him, but he also had weapons, and more importantly he seemed to know where the hell they were headed, and she was still in the dark, so to speak. Jean-Luc had been right. Why come to a planet that had been off limits for years. It wasn't as though Exo III had a reputation for hidden archeological treasures. In fact it had no reputation at all, and yet, she'd decided to come here.

* * *

Sylvia clasped her hands behind her back placidly. "What are your intentions doctor?"  
Crusher kept the phaser trained on the android, but felt some internal hesitation. Until now, she hadn't questioned the intelligence of her decision to follow Jean-Luc into the wormhole.

"Just as I said. I'm going to find Captain Picard and you are going to help me."  
"And once you find him? What is your plan?"

The fact was she didn't have one. Crusher stuck her chin out obstinately. "I'm going to make sure he comes back alive," she snapped.

Sylvia nodded with a slight smile. "You needn't hold me prisoner, Doctor Crusher. I will go with you and help you to whatever extent I am able." She watched as Crusher slowly lowered her weapon, and let the hand holding her phaser drop to her side.

"I must say, having read your personnel file I never would have suspected you to engage in such aggressive behavior " Sylvia added, heading for the door.  
"Look who's talking," Crusher muttered, walking out behind her.

* * *

The shuttle burst through the entrance to the wormhole and instantaneously they appeared to be in the same icy-gray atmosphere they had just left. But something must have been different, because Haftel gestured wildly to the Bolian pilot, who nervously steered the shuttle down toward the planet. On unsteady feet, Vash made her way to the main view port and could see the white planet surface fast approaching. Dusk was beginning to descend. Still nauseous from the effect of the wormhole, she felt her insides sloshing around as the speed of the shuttle seemed to increase suddenly. She grabbed at the back of Haftel's seat to try and steady herself as the shuttle shuddered through what was quickly becoming an ice storm. Large chunks of icy snow crashed against the hull the wind roared outside the shuttle cockpit. Haftel shouted something to his pilot over the noise.

Visibility was poor, and the Bolian pilot turned his landing lights on early in order to illuminate the darkening expanse. The shuttle shuddered again, and then decelerated, skimming the icy planet surface as the pilot searched for a somewhat safe area to land on.

* * *

"The wormhole has reappeared sir," said the willowy looking ensign at ops.  
"Good," said Worf. "Captain Picard must have triggered the wormhole as he anticipated."

Worf stood up from the captain's chair connecting communications to Engineering. "Commander LaForge, please concentrate your efforts on preparing for the destruction of the wormhole."

"Worf...succeeding in this mission might mean we lose all of our people in the process. The Enterprise could also be lost. This could be a no win situation." came LaForge's disembodied voice.

"As Captain Picard would say, I am well aware of the risks."

"Understood. I'll keep you updated" Geordi signed off.

In Engineering Leah Brahms looked up from her calculations with a raised eyebrow. "'No win situation'? What kind of attitude is that, Commander?"

Geordi shook his head and sat down next to her. "A realistic one. Sorry Leah, but the odds aren't good."

Brahms chuckled. "Too bad Mr. Data is not around to tell us with exact specificity exactly how bad the odds are."

Geordi remained grim at the mention of his best friend's name. "Yeah, too bad."

She touched him on his forearm, quite unexpectedly, since Doctor Brahms was hardly known to exhibit much emotion, let alone affection. He turned to regard her with his Visor, and he could tell that she was smiling, which was also unexpected. "I have an idea I think will cheer you up, Commander. Watch this." She switched on her console and began her calculations.

**Paris: The Past**

"_You'll be graduating at the top of your class I hear." The man waved him into a plush armchair in front of an old fashioned fireplace. Jean Luc sat down. The room, young Jean-Luc noticed was musty and filled with books, both classic and contemporary. It wasn't often that a Starfleet cadet traveled from San Francisco to Paris for a chat with his girlfriend's father. A father who he'd only met once; and who happened to be the Chair of the Humanities Department at the University of Paris. And so early on in the conversation, Jean-Luc Picard was starting to question why he had made this trip. He was braced by the sound of "And quite the athlete too, Jenice tells me" Doctor Bertrand added._

_Picard didn't know quite what to say, so he just nodded. Always conscious of his posture, he could almost hear his mother telling him to sit up straight. He struggled not to fiddle with his hands, not wanting to appear as nervous as he felt. Instead he kept them locked on the arms of the chair._

_Jenice Bertrand's father, certainly better known in most circles for his academic journals than for being Jenice's father, pulled an old fashioned pipe from a nearby drawer. To Picard's fascination he held a tiny flare to the bowl of the pipe and then put the other end in his mouth and began a strange puffing sound. "This must be smoking!" Picard declared silently to himself. He did not want to seem overly interested in Dr. Bertrand's archaic and exciting ritual, but he feared the older man could sense his agitation._

_"How many people have you slept with?" The sudden shock of the question had seemed to physically force him back into his armchair.  
"S-sir?"  
"You heard me." The puffing was suddenly becoming very distracting. Picard also felt himself beginning to choke on the purplish smoke emanating from Dr. Bertrand's pipe. "And don't call me sir. This is a real university, not the Academy."_

_"Ah" Picard murmured. The insult about his credentials was nearly lost on him, as he struggled with the first question._

_"You can bet the number is far less than the number of men and women-and who knows what else on some of these interplanetary journalistic trips she's taken-that my daughter has bedded. Doesn't that trouble you, young man?" Dr. Bertrand continued to fix him with an almost predatory stare. How could he possibly answer this question correctly?_

_"Sir," said Picard steeling himself. "Jenice and I are very serious about-"_

_"Look here farm boy...you don't know the meaning of serious." Bertrand had taken the pipe from his mouth and now sat on the edge of his chair leaning toward the cadet. A cloud of smoke wafted up young Picard's nose making him cough._

_"Do yourself a favor and leave my daughter before she makes a fool of you. She's out of your league, son."_

_"Sir we've decided to make a life together..." the words he had believed so strongly earlier that day now sounded weak and insincere to his own ears._

_Dr. Bertrand stood up with a cruel laugh. "Did you hear what I just told you? Did she make you think you were somehow the only one? You are nothing more than another conquest to my daughter."_

_Picard stood up, his body now visibly shaking with outrage. "Sir, you are so wrong," he said hearing the threat in his own voice." Not wanting to make a further scene he turned to exit the room._

_"Do you think my daughter is going to marry you, have your children and wait patiently on earth while you explore the stars to your heart's content? My daughter is a free spirit not some-some **military **wife," Bertrand shouted._

_Jenice's father __followed Picard to the door and held it open as Picard hastily exited. For some reason, even though he wanted to flee in humiliation, Picard turned and faced the man one last time. But still all he could do was listen, because somewhere deep down he knew Jenice's father was right. "I'm doing you a favor Picard. You're a free man now. Go." _

_He didn't leave her right away, but within a few years, as Dr. Bertrand had predicted, it was over._

_"Jean-Luc, we'll always have Paris…always have Paris…have Paris…Paris…Paris…."_

He was falling...

_He was sitting in his mother's parlor, fiddling with something. Was this a memory or a fantasy? He could smell stew cooking in the kitchen. "Jean-Luc!" _

_His mother laughed delightfully, as she leaned into the room to find him there. "Put that toy down and go and fetch me a handful of herbs from the garden." _

_He looked down at his fist, unclenched it, as if to let the toy fall to the ground, but instead of falling, it floated, or rather hovered in place. He smiled and his eyes widened with amazement, for it was a tiny but familiar sight. He reached out to touch the engraving on the side. _

_It was so small he could scarcely read..."NCC-1701 D." He reached out, but the tiny ship floated farther away, the more he leaned toward it. He was so close...black space closed in around him, but the ship was so close._

He was falling face first like a projectile. Stars seemed to streak by him as his body twirled and twisted through a long snaking tube at nauseating speeds. His body was a collection of atoms that was disintegrating and then re-integrating from millisecond to millisecond. He looked at his hands flailing in front of him and through a golden shimmer that surrounded his body, he could see his veins and the muscles beneath his now invisible skin and beyond that he could see more stars. He moved through everything and everything moved through him. He was screaming at the top of his lungs, but could hear nothing. And he was alone. If he could have done anything besides scream he would have pleaded to make it stop, but the fall would not end. Was it real or in his mind?

He knew that in reality he was moving through years and years of time. And suddenly there was sound all around him. Voices speaking a language he didn't understand talked and laughed and sung to each other. His speed began to slow, and then he could see a rock wall ahead and was moving through a maze of caverns. His body was penetrating rock, but human bodies were not meant to penetrate rock, and he screamed as time slowed and in agony as flesh and bone slowly passed through stone and mineral. He realized with horror that his body was materializing inside solid matter. One wasn't supposed to survive such an experience. For what seemed like minutes he felt his body slowly transitioning from a stream of particles back into his normal physical state of being. Somehow he was conscious of the fact that if he materialized too fast he would re-form inside solid rock, and he would die that way. And then just as suddenly, he was free.

Writhing in agony on solid ground, he struggled to see, but his eyes blinked through a bleary red haze. He wondered if this was what it felt like to be born. Certainly he seemed to be alive. He raised a hand to his face and felt wet. "I'm bleeding," he thought, but when he brought the hand to his face to look at it through blurry eyes he saw that blood was mixed with tears. "My legs, I can't feel them," he thought. Or did he speak it? It didn't matter because no sound came out. He turned his face to the ground to try and push himself up, but only succeeded in inhaling sand. He told himself to calm down, and within minutes he felt his heart rate had slowed down considerably. Then he fainted.


	2. Chapter 2

Ruk had found a small creature on the floor of one of the lower caves. It was odd that he had not noticed it enter the caves. If he had not heard it groaning, he would not have noticed it at all. When he approached it, he saw that it was injured, but not dying. It's reddish internal bodily fluids had leaked, but were coagulating, which Ruk knew meant it would not die from its wounds. He moved the creature, so that it would not suffocate in the sands of the cave. When he had flipped the creature over, he saw that it was one of the New One's species. The New One would not want one of his own kind destroyed, so Ruk left the creature on its own.

* * *

After briefly introducing Data to his lookalike, Kivas Fajo had left him alone on the bridge of his ship. Data considered that this may have been a show of confidence on the part of Fajo, perhaps to show Data that even at the command center of this ship, Data was trapped. Data had scanned the bridge, and examined its operating systems from a distance. He concluded that there was nothing particularly unfamiliar about the controls of this ship. He decided that for now, it was not in his interest to attempt to gain control of the vessel. Instead he turned his attention to the android nearby.

Data stared at his android doppelganger with undisguised curiosity. Data had been designed by his creator to be curious, and unlike most of his programming, this was a central facet of his state of being. Data could cease any of his essential programs but as long as he was conscious he would still seek to discover the unknown. As he circled Kivas Fajo 's version of him, he noted some physical defects, not present in his own makeup. The android's "skin" appeared to be made of low quality polymers, and his movements were not fluid like Data's. "Data" as Fajo had referred to the android, had a vocal program quite inferior to data and its vocal program was a low grade simulation of a human voice.

"What is your operating system?" Data asked. The android looked at him blankly in answer.

"What is your artificial neural pathway constructed from?" Still no answer. Perhaps the duplicate android did not wish to reply.

Data turned at the swish of opening doors. It was Kivas Fajo, who entered followed by his enormous Nausiccan stooge. "He's not like you, Data," said Fajo."Or should I say _it_—because it's really only a machine isn't it? Not like you, my friend. _You_ are something more than a machine," he said tapping Data on the chest. "But less than a man," he added quickly. "No," he said walking to a bench and sitting down. "Data here—my Data that is—is a mere replica of you, a mere copy. It doesn't have the brain power, the physical stamina, the..._joie de vivre _you possess. You see, as I said before, I missed you Data. And before I could find you again, I had to tide myself over with this here," he said gesturing at the duplicate dismissively. "Conveniently for me, some of my best friends are roboticists."

"Your fascination with me is becoming a severe hindrance to my personal freedom," Data observed. "What is the purpose of capturing me a second time, Fajo?"

Fajo giggled. "Data, you are a truly perceptive individual. And you are right, I am fascinated by you. You have known me long enough to know that I am fascinated by shiny things. And you, my friend are the shiniest object I have ever encountered. And you also know that what I want, I collect. This is why you are here." He shrugged.

"I will find a way to escape," replied Data evenly. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the Nausicaan moving behind him. Data remained still.

"I admire your confidence, Data," Fajo said, sounding somewhat sincere. He walked over to a view screen. "But what if there is nowhere for you to escape to this time? Last time we met your starship came back to rescue you. What makes you think that you would have anywhere to escape to?" He switched on the viewer. Images of purple and pink clouds surrounded the ship. The ship hung quietly in one place.

Data glanced at Fajo. "We appear to be inside a nebula," he observed. Internally he scanned through hundreds of possible nebula's within two days travel of Exo III, at all possible speeds of travel. Since he had been unconscious for the trip, he was unaware of the actual speed at which Fajo's ship had traveled, making it difficult to narrow the field.

Fajo was feeling generous and offered an answer. "We're in the Lisonian Nebula to be precise," he said with a grin.

Data was intrigued. The Lisonian Nebula was in close proximity to the Exo system. The question was obvious. "Why have you chosen not to depart this solar system? The Enterprise is equipped with superior sensor systems, and will locate this ship."

Fajo laughed. "Not too sure about that, my friend. Actually, perhaps you should consider _why_ the Enterprise has not found this ship yet. Hmm?"

"That thought had occurred to me," Data admitted. He glanced at Fajo's android, who had now seated himself at the ops station, and was staring forward vacantly.

Fajo touched the operations console and an image of the ship appeared on a small screen. Data studied what appeared to be an energy field surround the hull.

The strength of such a device would have to be considerable to achieve what it had. "A cloaking device," he said, studying the console carefully. "An incredibly powerful one at that," he added. "This explains why you were able to avoid detection. But it does not explain why you continue to stay here, when this ship is clearly capable of faster than light travel. If you are seeking to avoid the authorities, your strategy is a curious one. "

Fajo studied him with a sly smile. "Data...have you ever wondered what your life would be like if you were free?"

"I do not know what you mean."

"Free from obligations, free from Starfleet even from...the Enterprise?"

Data shook his head. "I would not consider that scenario to be at all acceptable," he said flatly. "In fact, I have only considered that possibility on one occasion; when I first met my brother Lore."

Fajo straightened his coat and stood up almost proudly. "Well you will soon have a chance to face a reality without your beloved ship. Because I am going to destroy it." His smile held a cold confidence unusual even for Fajo.

* * *

The shuttle skidded and bounced to a halt. There was a loud crunching noise as the ship came to a rest in an icy snow bank. At that moment, Vash lost her balance and fell forward into the pilot, who in turn fell forward onto the shuttle controls. His head came down on the console with a sickening thud. As she pulled herself up from the floor she used the pilot's seat for balance and could see he was out cold. Haftel and his associates appeared fine. In fact Haftel was busy checking his tricorder and clearly not interested in the pilot's health. Vash on the other hand had plans to leave this planet eventually and at least for that reason was very concerned about the pilot's health. She put a hand on his shoulder and shook him gently. The pilot groaned, and then slowly lifted his head from the controls. He had a bruise on his forehead, but appeared to be alright.

Vash helped him to sit back in his seat, and then turned to Haftel. He was barking orders at his subordinates, who were moving containers and organizing the necessary supplies. For the first time she got a look at the equipment she had assumed was archeological. She could plainly see now that it was not. A feeling of unexplainable dread began to creep into her consciousness. Frantically she considered grabbing the communications console and contacting Jean-Luc. Would he come to her rescue, she wondered?

Instead, she decided to pretend she believed nothing was amiss, and that she was about to embark on an archeological dig. Her mind briefly rested on what Riker had said earlier. If she could get to the back of the shuttle again...suddenly Haftel stood in front of her.

"Now what?" Vash snapped hoping her nervousness sounded more like irritation. "If you think I am about to go out into that freezing mess without a coat on, you had better think again, Richard."

Haftel smiled. "My dear, you certainly have a way with words. There is no need to be concerned about the cold; we have all of the supplies we need. Orick," he called to the disturbing looking little human who was busily working. "Go and get Vash an environmental suit from the supply hold."

"Wait!" said Vash. "I'll go get it myself," she said hurriedly.

Haftel gestured to Orick. "Go with her," he ordered. Orick looked at Haftel and then Vash with a sneer.

"I don't need a baby sitter, Richard," she shot back.

A strange look crossed Haftel's face, but he nodded. "Very well."

* * *

"Riker!" Vash whispered, searching for the First Officer. "Riker!" She said a little louder when he did not respond.

"Shh!" He came out of the shadows. "What's going on?"

"I need an environmental suit," she said.

Riker's eyes seemed to glint in the darkness. "Are you really going through with this? You have no idea what Haftel is up to."

"Look, you could be right that he's trouble, but if we confront him now, how is that going to go for us, Riker?"

"You may be right," he admitted. "We are outnumbered five to two." He thought a moment more. "What we do have is the element of surprise. I'll stay behind on the shuttle and wait a bit before following you. Just do your best to keep them distracted, okay?"She nodded, and he reached behind him and passed her an environmental suit.

She took it and started back toward the front of the ship, but turned back to wish Riker good luck.

* * *

Picard heard footsteps somewhere and his head jerked up, wrenching him out of semi-consciousness. He blinked and saw artificial light streaming overhead from an otherwise dark cavern. He blinked again and realized he was now lying on his back. When he had fallen unconscious earlier, he had been on his stomach. Had someone moved him? Pins and needles erupted in his calves when he tried to move his legs. He rocked his feet back and forth until sensation returned to normal. The sensations he now felt were not pleasant. He made fists with his hands, and flexed them in front of his face until his eyes focused properly. Breathing in deeply, his breath sounded ragged and the blood pounded in his ears. He didn't know if he was injured or simply disoriented from his unimaginable trip through time-space. He decided with limited time, it was best not to examine his physical condition too closely.

Getting up into a crouching position, Picard leaned over onto his arms until he felt strong enough to stand up. When he straightened, a wave of vertigo swept over him, but he steadied himself. Was he even in the right time? He knew he wouldn't be sure until he found Vash. By now, he thought, Haftel and his team would be here. He hoped Vash and Riker would find each other and work to stop Haftel from carrying out his plans. Summoning all of his energy, he began to walk toward the room's only exit. When he stepped out into the tunnel, he discovered that for now there was only one direction to walk in and that the tunnel had a gentle incline upward. Glancing around for anything resembling a weapon and finding none, he took a deep breath and plodded ahead.

* * *

"Judging by the stability of the wormhole, we've got just under three hours before the wormhole closes, and it is not likely that we'll be able to trigger its appearance again," said LaForge.

Laforge sat with Worf in the Captain's ready room. Worf's sudden and hopefully temporary promotion to commanding officer meant he had to rely on Geordi's guidance, and Geordi could tell that Worf was not happy about this fact. "And if the Captain is unable to return to us within that period of time?" Worf asked.

"Then...it's possible we will never see the Captain or Commander Riker, again. I know it's not exactly any consolation, Worf, but at least we'll have saved the universe."

"And what plan have you and Dr. Brahms designed in order to achieve this task of saving the universe?"

"Uh...I think we're close, Worf, but we need to be sure. We might only get one shot at this."

Worf frowned, which Geordi knew mean he was not impressed. They both looked up, as a message came in through the intercom."Lieutenant Worf," interrupted Ensign Green's voice from the Bridge. "Sorry to bother you sir, but Dr. Selar is reporting a rather disturbing development."

"Go ahead," said Worf.

"Doctor Crusher appears to be missing, sir."

"Appears?! Has she disappeared or has she not?" He thundered. Rising up, he strode out of the Ready Room. "Report," he barked to the young Ensign.

The young man, stationed at Worf's usual post, looked decidedly uncomfortable with his new responsibilities. "Sir, Dr. Crusher has not been seen aboard the Enterprise for the last two hours, sir. She beamed herself down to the Daystrom Institute after telling her medical staff that she had business down on the station. The problem is, sir, that she never returned, and a scan of the station indicates she is no longer on the station either. In fact, the station reads completely devoid of lifeforms, now that the evacuation is complete, sir."

"Continue scanning, and send a security team down to the station," ordered Worf.

"Worf," said Troi with uncharacteristic intensity. "I think she tried to follow Captain Picard into the wormhole. I should have known...she was so unsettled when I saw her last."

Worf paused and fixed the counselor with a glowering look. "Send the team down anyway."

"Aye sir. Uh sir," the Ensign ventured.

"What?" Worf demanded gruffly.

"There is a type I phaser missing from the secondary armory, sir."

Worf raised an eyebrow and turned to Laforge, who shrugged. What next?

"Yellow alert. Yellow alert," reported the ship's computer calmly as the bridge turned a yellowish hue. Worf and LaForge spun around as the air appeared to shimmer. Worf actually staggered as a wave of energy seemed to enter the bridge crew. Just as quickly as it entered the ship, it was gone. The yellow alert ceased abruptly and the lighting returned to normal.

"Report," shouted Worf.

Ensign Green was ashen. "Sir, the...the station..."

"On screen," said Worf, turning to the viewscreen. The vast expanse of black space stretched out before them, where just seconds before the Daystrom Institute had been.

"I don't believe it," gasped Troi. "It's gone."


End file.
